Jase and Missy Robertson’s journey: Overcoming obstacles and finding strength

Mia Robertson, the youngest daughter of Duck Dynasty’s Jase & Missy Robertson, has been born with a condition known as cleft lip and palate, a gap in the upper lip that can involve the gum as well.

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention shares that about one in every 1,600 babies is born with a cleft lip with a cleft palate in the U.S.

Because of her condition, sweet Mia, who is now 18 years old, has been forced to undergo 13 surgeries, with the 14th taking place just recently. The family truly hopes this would be Mia’s last procedure before her problem is finally solved.

Throughout every surgery, the young girl remains positive. What’s most, she hopes she serves as inspiration for other young children who are born with the same condition. On her own initiative and with the help of her family, Mia established the Mia Moo Fund in order to assist in making certain that each and every child wears a smile on their face.

“One of the functions of the Mia Moo Fund is to spread awareness of the cleft lip and palate journey,” Missy Robertson told Christian Post. “The other one is to help with medical funds for the parents and the families living right here in America.”

On his podcast Unashamed, Jase Robertson shared an update on Mia’s condition and said that his daughter is recovering well.

“She’s doing great. She’s turned a corner,” he said, and then added, “Everything seems great, seems to be fine.”

“Surgery went a little longer than expected, but she is home and recovering,” the loving father told his podcast listeners. “Thank you for praying for her and for our family. She is a champion!”

Before the surgery took place, Missy spoke of her daughter’s condition and explained that she had been constantly asked about the number of procedures Mia would need to undergo in the future. “There is never any other response than ‘We just don’t know,’” Missy said. She then added that they rely on God for assistance. “Since she is 18 now, she is taking the lead in all the discussions and medical forms. It’s been a little strange,” Missy wrote. “But it’s just another reminder to lean on the Lord and that I’m not in control.”

Mia also hopes that she’s at “the finish line.”

“Hopefully the last time I’ll see my doctors in this setting! It’s been a long road but we are at the finish line,” brave Mia said.

The Robertson’s have also been preparing for a new addition to the family as they open the doors to their hearts and home for a child whose mother was unfit to take care of.

We wish Mia speedy recovery.

I Found a Girl Alone on a Dark Road – What I Saw When I Got Closer Will Haunt You

Driving alone on a foggy night, a mother sees a young girl in a torn dress, quiet and strangely familiar. As she drives closer, she notices the girl’s sad eyes, filled with secrets that might be best left unknown.

It was late, and the night seemed darker than ever. The fog hugged the car like a thick blanket, hiding everything beyond the headlights. I squinted ahead, holding the steering wheel tighter than usual.

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“Just get home,” I whispered, rubbing my tired eyes. It had been a long day at work, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed.

I always avoided this road. I usually took the main highway, but tonight, I thought: A quick shortcut will save time.

Then, I noticed something in the distance. A shadow in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding. The outline was faint, but it was there in the mist.

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“Please just be a tree or a mailbox,” I whispered, though I knew it wasn’t. As I drove closer, I realized it was a girl. She looked thin, and her white dress was in tatters.

A chill ran down my spine. Every instinct told me to turn back, but something held me there.

I cracked open the window, my voice shaky. “Are you okay?”

I stepped out of the car with a flashlight. The beam lit up her face, and I gasped, stumbling back. I knew that face. The pale skin, the wide eyes—it was my daughter.

“Emily?” I whispered, barely believing it. She looked at me, eyes empty and wide.

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“Mommy?” Her voice was faint, like a distant echo.

Shock and relief overwhelmed me. It was Emily, my daughter who’d been missing for five years. She had vanished without a trace, and no one knew what had happened to her.

“Emily, oh my God… it’s you,” I stammered, stepping closer. “Are you hurt? Where have you been?”

She blinked slowly, her expression blank. “I… don’t know,” she murmured. Her voice was soft, like she hadn’t spoken in years.

I knelt in front of her, heart racing. “It’s okay, honey. It’s me. We’re going home now, alright?” I wrapped my coat around her thin shoulders and led her to the car. She sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out into the fog.

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The drive home was quiet. I glanced over at her, but her face was blank, as if she were somewhere far away.

“Emily,” I asked gently, “do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

She didn’t look at me. “A room. It was dark. There was a man, but I can’t remember his face.”

My throat tightened. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. We’re going home.”

When we got home, she sat on the couch, looking around as if everything was unfamiliar. I asked if she remembered the place, but she only shrugged. Her voice was flat and empty.

“Mom,” she whispered, “I’m… cold.”

I wrapped a blanket around her, feeling her icy skin. The days that followed were tense. Emily was distant, barely speaking. The only time I heard her voice clearly was when she sang an old lullaby I used to sing to her. It felt strange because she shouldn’t have remembered it.

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One day, I found her looking at old photo albums. Her fingers traced a picture of her father, Mark. He had died when she was a baby.

“Mom?” she said, confused. “I know him.”

I felt a chill. “That’s your dad, honey. I’ve told you about him.”

She shook her head slowly. “No, I know him from… the place.”

A cold wave of fear washed over me. Emily couldn’t remember Mark, but she knew someone who looked like him. It had to be his brother, Jake. They looked so alike, almost like twins.

I couldn’t ignore the feeling anymore. I needed answers.

The next morning, I drove to our old family cabin deep in the woods. It had been abandoned for years, but something felt off when I arrived. One of the windows was covered with a cloth. Why would someone do that?

I pushed the door open, dust swirling in the air. Everything was untouched except for a small room in the back. Inside, toys lay scattered, worn but well-loved. My heart sank. This was where Emily had been kept.

I called the police immediately. Hours later, Emily sat quietly with me as the officers searched the cabin. She clutched her blanket, looking small and sad.

“Mommy… I remember now,” she whispered. “It was Uncle Jake. He looked like Daddy, but different. He would bring food and hum that song.”

The police confirmed it that night. They found enough evidence to arrest Jake. He confessed, saying he had taken Emily to “protect” her, wanting her to rely on him. It was twisted and horrifying to realize he had been so close all this time.

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When Emily heard the truth, she broke down, crying out the pain she had held inside for so long. I hugged her tightly, rocking her gently. “You’re safe now,” I whispered. “No one will take you away again.”

In the days that followed, Emily started to open up more. She would hum the lullaby at night, as if testing if it was safe to sing it again.

One evening, we sat together by the window. She leaned against me, and I softly hummed the lullaby like I used to. She looked up at me with a hint of peace in her eyes.

“I love you, Mommy,” she whispered.

Tears filled my eyes as I held her close. “I love you too, sweetheart. Forever.”

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